The liquid in the nutrient vat was completely still at this moment.
There were no traces of any current within it, no bubbles, and no traces of those micro-sized, almost invisible black dots gathering and scattering on the water's surface.
The entire pool of nutrient solution was as clear as freshly poured distilled water, and even the off-white sediment at the bottom began to dissolve and disperse, spreading like a thinning mist.
The liquid robots, the glowing micro-circuits, the mutually communicating gel networks, and the stacked nanoscale structures that had been running just seconds ago were all gone.
They vanished cleanly, as if they had never existed, leaving nothing behind at all.
Seeing this, everyone remained silent. Even the sound of their breathing grew soft, and the breath in their chests felt blocked—unable to be exhaled, yet impossible to swallow.
Spider-Man squatted on the edge of a half-collapsed concrete slab with his fingertips resting on his knees. He did not look at the others, nor did he turn his head; he merely stared at that empty, transparent vat wall.
He opened his mouth, then closed it again because he did not know what to say.
He considered himself someone who had seen many battlefields and witnessed much death, but those were always specific people or specific things falling before him.
What had vanished in front of him just now, however, was an entire civilization—including its origins, its structure, its evolutionary path, its internal division of labor, the technology it created, the breakthroughs it completed, and the collapse it triggered itself.
In less than ten minutes, it was like watching an entire fast-forwarded historical documentary.
Tony still stood there. He had not spoken for some time, and his lips were pressed tightly together, as if holding back some kind of emotion